


The Friction In Your Jeans

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Castiel, M/M, Maybe A Bit Of Comeplay, Now With Extra Fluff at The End, Slight Sub/Dom Implications, Top Dean, Twink!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2015-04-09
Packaged: 2018-03-22 02:53:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3712123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has Castiel, he has a bed, and, really, there isn't much more he'll need ever again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Friction In Your Jeans

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr request for anon, who wanted Bottom!Cas. I hope you likey.

“Dean,” Cas breathes, head falling back against the sheets, hands coming up to clutch at Dean’s hair. Dean swoops down to pepper Cas with kisses. He sighs again, another beautiful noise Dean will keep forever, and locks his legs tighter around his neck.

“Dean, please.”

“Hmm? What d’ you need, sweetheart?” Dean nuzzles into Cas’ neck, lips searching his hot flesh. “Touch me.” Cas tries to get some friction, but Dean has him pinned, and there’s nothing he can really do. Dean smiles devilishly. “You want me to? Want me to jack your pretty little cock?” Cas whimpers in response. “Cuz I think you should just come on nothing but this. You think you could do that for me, babe?” Dean slaps his hips down even harder, just to drive his point across. Cas cries out and nods frantically.

Dean doesn’t think he even knows what he’s agreeing to, he’s so far gone.

Between whines and moans and sobs, Cas will bite his lip, writhe, and make these _“oh oh oh”_ sounds with absolutely every thrust. Dean doesn’t know if it’s intentional or not, but it’s easily one of the most amazing things he’s ever seen.

They’re rational enough to remember that they’re not supposed to be here. Cas should be at home, maybe out with friends, considering the fact that he’s seventeen. Dean’s stolen the opportunity to whisk Cas away for spring break, even if it’s only for two days or so, but, God, this cannot be wrong, not when they slot so perfectly together. Cas had raised his head sometime ago, probably to kiss Dean, but now it’s fallen back again, and Dean can see the bronzed expanse of his neck. He slams his mouth down on Cas’ pulse point. Dean can only kiss, never bite, not on his neck. Again, he’s rational enough to know that leaving any marks there will stir some questions that would leave Cas in deep shit.

The rest of his body is a canvas of blue and purple and red. There are marks on his chest, bruising his nipples and his ribs. The soft juts of his hips and bruised from both Dean’s fingers and his teeth. The insides of his thighs are angry pink.

“Kiss me,” Cas murmurs suddenly. His words are slurred and heavy. “Please, Dean, please-” His beg is cut short when Dean’s mouth sneaks up, past his jaw and his cheeks, and latches on easily. Dean’s adding more bruises to Cas’ thighs, holding him up and nudging him wider so he can go deeper, harder. Cas pants into his mouth. His fingernails scrabble at Dean’s back, trying to find something to hold onto. Cas is already shivering underneath Dean, sweat slicking his skin, and Dean gives a shaky sigh when Cas starts pulsing and spasming around his dick.

Dean pulls away for a moment. He’s still close enough to where his lips brush against Cas’ with every breath. “Close,” Cas manages, choking off in a whine when Dean becomes more erratic. “Me too, darlin’,” Dean admits. “Me too.” He could do this for hours. He loves watching Cas shatter underneath him, loves watching the smart kid with the shy smiles and the straight-A’s becomes this needy, desperate thing. Cas gets flushed all the way down to his chest, and his hair is a mess.

“Open your eyes.” Dean says. The words are soft, but clearly an order, and Dean can’t help but go a bit harder when Cas’ eyes flutter to life near instantly. “Good boy,” he praises. “Look so pretty when you come.” Despite the fact that Cas is getting fucked so hard he won’t be able to walk for an hour afterwards, he still manages to look innocent. His startling baby blues are gazing up at Dean like he’s Cas’ galaxy, wide and trusting.

Cas isn’t even moaning anymore. He just chants Dean’s name like some sort of sinful prayer, eyes open, just like Dean told him to.

He barely blinks.

They both feel the pleasure curling in their stomachs, feel how close they both are. Dean can only think about how tight and hot Cas is, and Cas can only feel how full Dean makes him feel. Their old pattern is nonexistent at this point. It’s just Dean slapping his hips over and over, as hard as Cas can take it, and Cas receiving everything in bursts.

Silent, except for their heavy breathing and the sound of skin against skin.

Dean drives all his power into it. “Think you should come for me,” he whispers, breath hot against Cas’ ear. His tongue flicks out to tease at the shell. “Now.” Cas does with a shudder and a soft sob. Dean bites into his shoulder to muffle his own shout, and his movements have slowed down, working Cas through the aftermath. He nudges against Cas’ prostate again, just to hear the mewl he’ll give, and stops fluidly. Cas hums. His hands come down from Dean’s head to gather the come on his stomach. He sucks it into his mouth, eyes locked with Dean’s the whole time, the dirty little slut. Dean’s cock twitches, and Cas smiles, boyish but triumphant.

Dean gives a mock scowl. He sits up so Cas can rest in his lap, back against the headboard. “Stop trying to make me get horny again,” he scolds, palms running the length of Cas’ sides. “I’m too old for that.” Cas’ smile dies down a bit so it’s only kind. “No, you’re not.” He slides his hands up to cradle Dean’s jaw, fingers running through the short hairs of his stubble. “You know I told my parents I was over at a friend’s house.” Cas pushes himself away so he can have a clear view of Dean, using a palm on his chest as support. “I can spend the night here.” His eyes turn nervous suddenly, and now he  _definitely_ looks like a kid, perhaps one who just got punished. “If you want to. I can leave.” He seems saddened at the thought, but remains hopeful. He searches for Dean’s reaction in the night. Dean smiles, bringing Cas in so they can kiss, warm and slow and sated.

“Let’s go to bed, baby.”


End file.
